polyopia

I hate the comments about my size that come from strangers–yes, I know I’m huge, yes, I’m due any day now. I have body issues. I really, really don’t want to talk about my body with people I barely know (and that includes the really annoying neighbor who said, “Oh, your navel is protruding!” when I went out to get the mail. Um, fucking rude).

But what’s worse that that, even, is the question that my mother, my mother-in-law, and another random neighbor have all hit me with, “So, how much are you dilated?”

Honestly. At what point is it appropriate to ask about the state of someone’s cervix? Here’s a hint: The answer is NEVER. Not even if the person in question is 10 months pregnant and the size of a house and begging the fetus to just vacate, already, and turn into a baby. Yes, I’m miserable. No, discussing the size of my cervix is not going to make me feel any better about this pregnancy.

Why is there a totally different etiquette for dealing with pregnant women? Why is it okay to comment on things you would never, ever say to anyone else? (GB, sympathizing, said, “I find it hard to believe anyone would ever consider asking me about the size of my prostate.”)

Yes, my hormones are at Full Rage Mode. But it’s not just hormones. It’s common fucking courtesy.

I always hate the phone–I have serious phone-avoidance issues, even on my best days. But lately? I. Hate. The phone.

I just paid our cell phone bill for the past month: almost $50 in overage charges. I guarantee that all 100 of those extra minutes consisted of this conversation:

(me): Hi.

(friend/family member): Are you having the baby?????

(me) No.

(f/fm, disappointedly): Oh. How do you feel?

(me): miserable.*

(f/fm, even more disappointedly): Oh.

I absolutely love that my family and friends are so happy for us about H., and that so many people are excited for him to show up. Really. I love that. But seriously? Right now, no one wants H here more than I do, and while I understand my loved ones’ impatience and excitement, I have spent way too many really expensive minutes reassuring them that H will, in fact, show up eventually, and no, i have no idea when that will be.*

(Which I actually don’t believe, anymore. I think he’s taken up permanent residence. I realized this morning that I no longer believe that he’s actually coming out, and that I will just have this giant head in my pelvis forever.)

——————

*I woke up last night to pee (one of the many times), and I could not get up. I mean literally. I could not haul myself up to a sitting position. I was lying on my right side–always harder to get up from, partly because I can’t just roll off the bed and partly because all of H’s heavy parts are on my right side (he sticks his butt way up all the time, so it’s very easy to see where his butt and back are–and the ultrasound confirmed he’s in exactly the position I thought he was). I tried three times. I Could. Not. Get. Up. I was cussing like a sailor by the time I finally rolled onto my left side and flopped myself over the edge of the bed. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Poor GB. Living with me is not easy.

**My mom has asked me twice now if my doctors have talked about inducing labor. I keep reminding her that my due date is, technically, next week. She says she knows, she’s just wondering….Ugh.

Canada asked for an updated belly shot. I’m not thrilled with the state of the belly right now, but I am seriously hoping that today’s picture will be the last of the pregnancy belly shots, so I’m complying. (I am *very* much hoping that I don’t have to post a 40 week shot…or, gods forbid, a 41 week shot. Ugh.)

First, just for kicks, here’s the very first pregnancy belly picture I took, at 6 1/2 weeks. (Remember that this is after about a year of Weight Watchers, having gotten back down to my goal weight.):

And here are my pictures from today, at 39 weeks:

Can you see what happened in that last picture? Everything below my belly button completely flattened out. It’s totally bizarre. I think that’s where H. has been hanging out for the past couple months, and when he dropped (and oh, he’s continuing to drop, ow), he left this big weird vacant flat spot. It’s really not the most attractive thing I’ve seen. Anybody else get a weird flat-spot belly at the end?

So yeah. Here’s hoping these are the last belly pictures, and that the next pictures I post on here will be of H. himself.

• H looked great on the monitor and the ultrasound today, so yesterday’s heartrate deceleration seems to have been a fluke. I did eat a doughnut right before the doctor visit, so his heartrate may have been slightly artificially accelerated….but the doctor says he looks good, and that makes me happy.
• The staff at the doctor’s office have started making sympathetic noises in my direction. They all know that the preterm labor scare skewed my idea of when H would be showing up, and now they’re all reassuring me that I won’t make it to next week’s appointments. We’ll see.
• I’m up to twice-weekly appointments now. According to my favorite doctor: “We have to see you twice a week because you’re old.”
• I am absolutely shocked by the size of my ankles. And my calves. They have reached what can only be described as “gargantuan proportions.” Really, it’s an incredibly disturbing sight.
• I keep asking GB if I look awful, and his response is “You look 10 months pregnant.” My boy is nothing if not diplomatic.
• I was up all night (well, from about 4 to about 8am) just basically…worrying. No fun. I feel a nap coming on.

At my doctor’s appointment today I met the last doctor in the practice (there are 5, and they rotate you through them because any of them could end up delivering). Not sure how I’d missed her so far. She was awesome. All the doctors there are pretty awesome, though as I’ve mentioned, I’m not so crazy about the one male doctor. You might recall that he’s the only doctor in the practice who’s found it necessary to tell me I was gaining too much weight. So I have some issues with him. And with my weight, obviously.

So it was really nice today to have this other doctor look at my chart and say, “Your blood pressure is fine,* and your weight looks great.”

That is freaking awesome. I’ve gained more than 50 pounds.** So yay for non-stupid doctors.

H. looks good for the most part. I got to see bits of him on an ultrasound (checking fluid levels, which are fine), and the doctor pointed out that we could see him practicing breathing on the ultrasound. That was cool.

They want me back tomorrow for another non-stress test, though, because he seemed to have one “late deceleration” in heartrate, which could possibly indicate some distress. I’m trying not to freak out about it, and I’m glad to be going back tomorrow. Honestly, with the way my anxiety’s been, I would pretty much live in the doctor’s office until H is born, if they’d let me. So think good thoughts for us for an uneventful appointment tomorrow, please.

Oh, and a nurse told me, “I don’t think your belly can get any bigger.” So there’s the professional opinion on that: I have officially maxed out the belly.

*Which is nice, because we were at L&D over the weekend to get monitored because my BP was a little high. It seems okay now.

**For what it’s worth, I think I’ve mentioned that my two sisters each gained 60 pounds with each of their pregnancies…and they’re both tiny, tiny people.

Because the Giant Annoyances are getting overwhelming…

• Why can’t I get any good watermelon? I keep buying the cups of cut watermelon at the store (because I am WAY too lazy to chop my own watermelon right now) and it’s just never sweet. Is it just too early? Is there no good watermelon in this part of the country? (I know there are no good tomatoes in this state, which is another source of endless annoyance to me…My Home State, and East Coast State, have spoiled me on tomatoes.) All I’m asking for is one sweet watermelon. I’m not sure why that’s so hard.
• GB and I watched, and loved, the first four seasons of The Wire. Thanks to everyone who recommended it! We finished season 4 last night, though, and Season 5 isn’t out on DVD yet. And it was on HBO On Demand awhile back, but now it’s not. So. Will I ever get to see season 5? And if so, how? Or will it come out on DVD after H shows up, and then it’ll be, like, years before GB and I get a chance to watch the next season? I want to watch it NOW, dammit! Anyone know anywhere I can find it?
• Heartburn. I still have it. This kid is as low as he can possibly go without being outside, and I still have toes up in my ribs and heartburn/reflux. What’s up with that? Do I have a future NBA star in there? GB and I are not tall people, but this kid is taking up all the space he can.
• Water. Where is it going? I’m drinking more than 100 ounces of water a day–I refill the 34oz Bubba Keg at least three times a day, and I try to go for four. Yet my lips are constantly dry and I’m parched. Every single time I’ve been to L&D, they’ve told me I’m dehydrated. Where is all this water I’m drinking going?
• Oh, wait, I know where it’s going–straight to my fucking calves. My calves are unbelievably, ridiculously swollen. I mentioned the inch-deep indentation when I pressed my foot against my shin, right? It’s completely freakish. What possible use is it to me or the baby to store fluid in my calves?
• (On the bright side, I thought my calves were just really, really fat, and was actually a little relieved to discover that it’s mostly swelling.)

Dancingfish reminded me that there was a Buzzlet pool awhile back on here. At the time, we still didn’t know the sex, so most of the guesses were along those lines–but a lot of people guessed due date and time too. I thought it might be fun to revisit those guesses and invite new ones, just for the hell of it. There’s no actual prize at the end of this–just bragging rights. Plus, it keeps me distracted for now, which is definitely worthwhile.

Okay, so here are the guesses I have so far:

• May 31: Life of a Fool
• June 1, 1:13am, 7lbs 6oz: Addy N.
• June 2, late evening, 8lbs 1oz: Gretty
• June 2, 4am: Weezy
• June 3, 7lbs (+/- 6oz): Skycat
• June 4, 7lbs: Kermit
• June 4, 4am, 8lbs 8oz: Dancingfish
• June 6, 7lbs 8oz: Tequila Fog
• June 7, 1:30pm, 7lbs 9oz, brown hair/hazel eyes: LillyRose
• June 7, 1:35pm: comebacknikki
• June 8, 9:32 pm: Adjunct Whore
• June 9: Canada
• June 10: Seeking Solace
• June 10, 7:32pm, 7lbs 4oz: lil’rumpus
• June 11, 10:30am: Ursa
• June 12, 2am: Dr. Brazen Hussy

Our due date, based on my (very accurate) calculations, is June 4th. The doctor’s EDD for us is June 6th, but their chart doesn’t take leap year into account. Working with their calculations and considering leap year, it’d be June 5th.

Not that any of that matters. They tell me that 2 weeks on either side of the EDD is “normal.”

I also have heard that the average gestation for first babies is 41 weeks and 1 day. However, both of my sisters had their first babies 2+ weeks early. Which also means very little.

Because I’m a geek, I also started a pool at this website. Yes, I am desperately trying to keep myself occupied, without actually working. Feel free to guess here in comments, or at the website, or to completely ignore this whole thing. Whatever.

Me, I’m still hoping for a May birthday…but we’ll see, I guess.

My One School Friend had her baby on Saturday! She was due on May 17th, so her little guy showed up at 41 weeks. He’s absolutely freaking adorable! I haven’t talked to her yet, but from what her husband told me yesterday, it sounds like they had a relatively easy and uneventful labor. Which is awesome for them, and encouraging to me.

They’d been telling me for weeks that it just wouldn’t be fair if I had H. before they had their baby (since they were about 3 weeks ahead of us). So I now have the go-ahead to have H. anytime.

Now I just have to convince him that now’s as good a time as any.

(Yes, another super whiny post. You’ve been warned.)

So, for the past few days I have been Freaking. Out.

The anxiety and the panic attacks are back in full force, and after going 38 weeks without ever once calling my doctor’s after-hours line, I’ve called twice in the past two days and spent a couple hours at the hospital last night for monitoring.

Friday night I sat for a couple minutes with my foot pressed against my other shin, and when I moved my leg there was this gigantic indentation about 2 inches long and, seriously, almost an inch deep. It was insane. It looked like someone had whacked my shinbone with a hammer, and it took about 10-15 minutes to go away. Naturally, I freaked out. The on-call doctor (the one I like the most in the practice) said it probably wasn’t a big deal unless my blood pressure was weird.

So I try to calm down, and then the next day (Saturday) I went (of course) to check my blood pressure. Normally my bp is really low–normal for me is about 90/60. Yesterday afternoon it was 135/85, which is the highest I’ve ever seen it. So I freaked out for awhile. I was feeling really crappy all day yesterday anyway (probably about 95% anxiety/panic induced–I recognize this in retrospect), and GB and I sat down to try to watch more of The Wire and I was just not calming down. So I called the dr. again (the guy I’m not crazy about, this time) and he suggested I go to L&D for monitoring.

Things seemed fine there. My bp was in the 120s/70s or 80s, which they feel okay with (even though it’s high for me), and Hank looked good on the monitors, so they didn’t keep us long. But. Before we left they wanted to do an exam to check on my (lack of) progress, and Oh My Fucking God, friends, I’ve had these exams before–but this one made me cry. Seriously, I don’t know what this nurse’s deal was, but Holy Fucking Ow. And I’m all, Oh, I have a high pain tolerance. But holy shit. Made me cry, bleed, and cramp for hours afterward. Oh, and I learned that progress, I have made none.

So now I don’t know what to make of these cramps and contractions I’ve been having all day. GB went to work for a few hours, and I’m trying to figure out if they’re timeable or if they’re just kind of there–and it’s hard to tell, really. They’re definitely worse than any I’ve had yet, but I’m still thinking they’re not the Real Thing. So I’m trying ot chill out, overall, and not time them now, until they start demanding more of my attention.

But the biggest issue here is the fucking anxiety. It’s hit a pretty unbearable point. I’m constantly freaking out (and I mean ALL DAY LONG, every day, and every time I wake up at night) that my blood pressure is fucked up, that I have blood clots in my legs, that H. isn’t moving enough, that Something Terrible is going to happen to me, H., and/or GB. More than anything else that’s going on right now–the pain, the discomfort, the not sleeping–the anxiety is making me crazy. I am No Fun. I can’t concentrate, I can’t relax, and I can’t stop worrying. And that fucking exam was so painful that I am now having Serious Doubts about my ability to handle the whole childbirth thing, and I have lost any modicum of confidence I had in that department.

So there you have it. I’m a freaking mess. And I want to just get H. out here and get that part all over with, and I also want to just keep him in there forever at this point.

Can I have a handful of Klonopin and a martini now, please?

I’m still here, and yes, I’m still pregnant. Nothing new, and I’m a little tired of hearing myself whine, so blogging has been light.

I realized recently (again) that I might be the most impatient person in the world. I have no idea how to wait for things without driving myself crazy. And something like waiting for this baby–where I have no idea when he’ll show up, and no idea really what to expect from this whole upcoming experience–is just about my idea of hell.

GB is on some huge project at work and has been working way too hard. Last night he didn’t get home until almost 1am. This makes me unhappy. I hate being here alone all day (I’m feeling very needy and anxious lately, as I might have mentioned), and I hate that if I go into labor right now, say, not only do I have to call him back from work, but he’s so exhausted lately. He’s hoping that if H. shows up this weekend, he waits until late on Sunday so that GB can get some rest this weekend. I understand this thinking, but I am really at a point where I don’t want to be pregnant for another day, so we may be kind of working against each other here.

In other news, my sister (who is awesome for at least trying to have a conversation with me that involves more than “have you had the baby yet?”) asked how my dissertation is coming. This question makes me want to cry. I really do believe that I’ll be able to get back to the diss and finish it on my projected schedule (by next spring), but right now it’s just impossible to imagine doing any more work on it, and I hate that.

See? This is why blogging is light. Whiney whine whine. I’m even boring myself with this crap.

(And the irony of all this is that I *know* that once H is here–whenever that is–and my mom gets here in 2 weeks, I’m going to look back longingly on these days where it’s just me sitting quietly at home, napping and watching Law & Order. But it doesn’t really make me appreciate this time any more right now.)